enough

frantic, fleeting skating on an ice patch as the wind flies through where my hair should be
left behind with feminity
finding new identity
with who i am inside of me

curious to think that my present is just a test of patient buildup towards tomorrow sun
grass is flying from my hips and hands are writhing telling stories
do you know what i'm saying
without the act of listening

shaking molting melting like an iceburg hit the sun
spraying rain like noise to quiet disbelievers
do you know what i'm saying
without looking at the sky

it's a jungle of robotics
with factors of organics
as inspired by the cheetah
and created as machines

who are you in the fog
would i recognize your voice
or need to touch your face
for i can't connect with anything
'sides my own to-do list

wasting away again in mad impurities